


Wincest One Shots

by HinaSohma



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:43:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2059749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HinaSohma/pseuds/HinaSohma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just Wincest and Weecest, may be smut later. Some may be underaged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lonely

By this point, Sam Winchester had decided that love was not something he was meant for. Love was reserved for people with normal families who lived in the nice houses and didn't chase monsters that most people didn't believe in. This was morbid thinking for a 12 year old boy, but he couldn't help it.  He would never tell Dean, of course, or Dad. They didn't care anyway.

Dean didn't want love. Dean wanted to get laid. Dad didn't want love. Dad wanted revenge. These were the thoughts that rushed through his head as fuzzy cartoons played on the tv screen, while he waited for Dean to come home. It was nearly midnight but that was okay because it was Saturday. He knew that when Dean came home he'd pick Sam up off the couch and lay him in the bed because even though he was a sixth grader, he was four foot nine and tiny. Dean was so much stronger and wider.

At almost one am, Dean came in with a cocky 'just got laid' smirk and a box of pizza. He glanced over sat Sam, stretched out on the couch with his face pressed to the cushion. Dean put the box in the fridge, and scooped up Sam. The younger's eyes fluttered open just for a moment before falling shut slowly. His arms went around the older's neck, burying his face into the sixteen year old's neck. He smelled like gasoline, leather, cheap cologne and ... Dean. Something undefinable that was uniquely Dean.

Sam felt Dean move into the bedroom of the small apartment, laying Sam on the bed. Almost mechanically, Sam undid his own jeans and kicked them to the floor while Dean stripped standing up. Dean twisted the blankets so Sam could burrow under them, and Dean moved behind him, pulling the blanket straight again. The bed was old, half collapsed, the blanket was thin and didn't hold in much heat, but Sam had learned to live with it as he buried his face in his brother's chest.

"Good night, Sammy." Dean murmured softly. 

Sam woke up first, bright and early at eight thirty am. He slid out of bed, pulling on a pair of shorts. He was delighted to find the pizza in the fridge and put a piece in the dirty microwave to munch down while watching T.V. Dean made his way out in boxers, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the palm of his hand.

As if on que, Sam asked the question he was obligated to the night after a date. "Have fun on your date?" He asked, not caring to hear the details. What was the point of having sex with some one you didn't love? It wouldn't mean anything!

"Oh, man, Sammy. It was great. I took her out for pizza and then we went to the drive in. She was so into it, rubbing up on me, and the we climbed into the --..."

"Dean! Ew, shut up!" Sam whined. "God, do you have to do it in the car?" He asked, his face twisting into an ugly expression. 

"Don't worry about that, Sammy. She swallowed. It was great." Dean looked  proud of himself, and of this nameless cheerleader who swallowed. What did Dean care if she swallowed? "She sucked it in the back seat and then we drove to one of those places, you know like the 'make out points'? Well it was just us and she stripped right there in the backseat and Sammy, her tits --..."

"Dean! Dean, shut up! I'm eating!" Sam protested as his brother took a long drink out of the milk carton before chuckling softly.

"You asked! And what, you can't hear about tits and eat pizza? What're you? Gay or something?" Dean asked, as if that was the only reason Sam wouldn't want to hear his story.

It had long since occured to Sam that he found boys attractive, but he found girls attractive to. "I just don't want to hear about my brother fuckin' some girl in the backseat of a car. A simple 'it was fine' would have sufficed. And so what if I was gay?" He challenged.

Dean turned serious in a way only Dean could manage, his cocky smirk fading into a thin line. "Are you ... gay?" He asked.

Sam shrugged. "So her tits were..." He started back into the story. He'd rather hear about this cheerleader than have any sort of serious talk with his brother this early in the morning. Despite wanting the apple pie life and the white picket fence, he couldn't imagine that anyone would want to make a life with Sam Winchester, the prince of freak central.

"Thought you didn't want to hear about her tits?" Dean cocked an eyebrow. Sam rolled his eyes.

"I don't. But you want to talk about them." Sam finished the pizza and stood up. "Nevermind, now. I'm gonna take a shower." He brushed past his brother to go into the bathroom. He couldn't get the mental picture of some busty blonde cheerleader sucking off his brother out of his mind.

He could feel it getting to his body as well, his dick beginning to get hard. Who would want a freak who got hard at the idea of his brother getting head? He stripped and turned on the water, a comfortable temperature. He had heard that cold showers helped with unwanted erections, but he hated cold showers and was thankful for any place where the water actually ran hot. 

About half way through his shower, his erection had finally gone down, with out.being touched. And through the water and his thoughts about life and love, he managed to hear the phone ring. A few moments later, Dean swung open the door.

"Hey, Sammy, guess what?" He asked. "Dad said he's finishing up and he'll be back in two days."

"Fantastic. Tell him I'll see him in a week." Sam said in a bitter voice. "Do you mind? Dude, I'm naked."

"Yeah? So what?" He asked, and Sam stuck his head out of the curtian. "I used to give you baths."

"So get out! I'm not five anymore, De. Lemme shower." He said, and Dean laughed softly, disapearing into the small apartment while Sam quickly finished his shower.

With that, the idea of Sam being gay faded from Dean's mind and Sam finished his shower. Later that night, Sam was kneeling at the coffee table doing homework. His brother was watching an old horror movie on tv. Movies like that never scared Sam. He knew how to kill the monsters in any horror movie.

"Hey, Sammy?" Dean asked, sitting up on the couch. "You know I wouldn't care if you were gay, right?"

"Dean! Dude, what is the with the whole me being gay? I'm not gay." Sam said, shifting uncomfortablely.

"I'm just saying. If you are." He said, laying back. Sam shook his head.

"Look, even if I was gay, what would it matter? It's not like I'm gonna date anyone or have sex or anything." Sam shrugged it off.

"But if you did have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, I want to know. 'Cause I'm your brother." Dean said. Sam scoffed.

"Like anyone would ever date me." He said it off hand, not meaning to. But his words sounded bitter, and sharp. And maybe they had the right to. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, looking at his brother. He wasn't quite the hardened emotionless asshole his father was, but Sam had almost never heard him use that tone. Concern and pity. 

"Nothing. Watch your stupid movie." Sam murmured softly, biting his lower lip. He turned his body away, focusing on the paper infront of him. Dean wasn't as willing to let the subject go as he leaned forward to pause the movie. 

"Sammy, you okay? What'd you mean?" He asked. Sam was quiet for a long moment.

"I'm like, the prince of the freaks. My dad hunts monsters and I've never lived in the same city for more than six months, and that's when I was born." He looked over. "No one would ever want to love me." His face was a mixture of a lot of emotions, and it nearly broke Dean's heart.

"That's not true, Sammy. Come on." He said, looking down at his little brother.

"Dean, stop. It's not something you would understand. Just forget I said anything." Sam muttered, going back to homework.

"Sammy, come on. You can talk to me." He murmured softly. "Come sit up here with me."

Sam stood up,  sitting on the couch with a huff of exahuastion. He had his shoulders sunk and his hands laying between his legs, elbows on his knees. "You wouldn't get it. You just care about getting laid. And tits."

"What wouldn't I get? Sammy, come on." Dean huffed softly.

"You know what? Okay. Try this, Dean! My dad hunts monsters. My brother has fucked one person in every town since I was ten. And me? I am a complete freak. So no one's ever gonna love me! I'm the smart one. Not attractive or buff or any of that."

"That's not true, Sammy. Come on. I love you." He said, softly. Sam shrugged.

"It's not the same, Dean. Just stop. Of course my brother loves me. Just... Stop." He rolled his eyes.

"No, really, Sam. I love you a lot. You're really cute. And smart. You'll find some one." Dean brushed his hand through Sam's hair, and then pulled him into a hug. Sam breathed in, the scent uniquely Dean. Gasoline, cheap leather, Dean. His arms slowly snaked around the other. Maybe he would find some one. Maybe.


	2. Halloween party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam goes to his first High School Party, a Halloween party. Includes oral sex, some reluctance.

It was Sam's first real high school party, at a senior's house none the less. He planned on having a lot of fun. He knew Dean was going to a friend's, so he wouldn't even have to sneak out. It was a halloween party, and everyone had to wear a mask. This was his chance to lose his repuation that he had since elementary school of being the dork Winchester.

Of course, Dean was graduating this year so the last three years of his high school career, he would be the only Winchester. He was dressed as 'Scream', since it had a mask. At around nine, his friend stopped by to pick him up, dressed as Freddy Krueger. 

Slipping into the car, Sam moved the mask and claws from the seat, pushing them onto the dashboard. He held the mask up and raised his eyebrow. 

"Nice. Some one didn't want to get any action." He commented to his friend, who scoffed.

"Oh, yeah. Like Scream's getting laid." He commented, lightly shoving Sam's shoulder before pulling away from the hotel. "Your brother is just letting you go?" He questioned.

"He's at a friend, appartently. I didn't have to sneak out. And at least Scream is just a plastic mask, not a disaster." He laughed, relaxing until they got to the party, doing a once over of their costumes. Then they got out, slipping into the house.

Sam was understandably nervous. Everyone had drinks and seemed some level of drunk or high despite how early it was. He was given a beer but didn't drink it. His costume had a mesh mouth, but no actual hole for food or drink. The living room was full of people dancing and talking, so he slipped into the kitchen, leaning against the wall with a girl dressed as a gypsy, only her eyes visible from the cloth bandana pulled over her mouth and nose. They didn't talk.

After a few minutes, a girl came down, looking around. She was dressed as what he assumed to be a slutty cat, but had a mask over half her face. She came up to both Sam and the gypsy. A game of seven minutes in heaven was beginning and they needed more players.

Sam agreed. The rules were simple. Everyone got a number, and even if it was two guys or two girls, you had to go in together. No matter want. Or you had to take off your mask. Sam was number 8.

Three groups went before Sam was called. "Number 8." He stood up, looking around to see the group. "And Number 12." A boy, in an 'It' mask. Sam got nervous. He was supposed to get in the closet with this guy. But he was already half way there. Sam began to walk up to. The boy pulled him in, and the door swung shut. It was dark. He could smell the alcohol on the boy's breath as he leaned in. Sam's heart was beating fast. He could vaguely see the man take off his mask, and then pull off Sam's. It was too dark to see his face.

Their lips crashed together and the other's tasted like beer. But it was sweet, too. He'd only been kissed once, behind the bleachers at a football game in seventh grade. The boy pulled his lips away to whisper in Sam's ear.

"Hey, Sammy. I thought it was you." His brother's drunk whisper slurred. Sam's eyes widened as he pushed Dean away.

"Dude!" He whisper-yelled. "You just -- oh my god -- we just ..." Sam was in total shock. He had just kissed his brother ... And he had liked it!

"Come on, Sammy." Dean moved back in to whisper to him, forcing him back against the wall. "We have seven minutes. Do you really just want to sit here and stare at each other?"

Dean began to slowly kiss his brother's jaw, down his neck slowly. Carefully. Sam tilted his head up slowly.

"Dean. This is wrong. Come on." He whispered, but part of him didn't want Dean to stop. Dean slowly began to suck on a small patch of skin. He let out a whimper. Dean's hand slowly went to his hip, the other snaking behind Sam's ass. 

Sam pulled his arm around the other's neck, whimpering softly as the grabbed at his ass. Dean pulled his lips away to murmur in his brother ear. 

"Who cares? No one's gonna care, Sammy. No one's gonna know." He whispered, his voice reassuring. Sammy nodded quickly. 

"Okay, De. Ah. Just don't... Stop, Dean." He whimper out softly. He couldn't get over how wrong the situation was. He was in a closet with his drunk brother, who was sucking on his neck. And god damn it was hot. He could feel Dean's crotch pressing against his own, grinding slowly.

"You gonna get hard, Sammy? Maybe we should continue later." He pulled back. Sam let out a whine. Dean bent down and grabbed their masks. After some issue, they got them back on. 

Just a few moments later, the door opened. It hadn't felt like seven minutes, but it was over. Dean grabbed Sam's arm, pulling him out of the room. Not bothering to hear the comments of the other masked people, Dean pulled Sam into an empty bedroom. He pushed Sam into the bedroom, and shut the door. There was the click of the lock and then Dean pulled off his own mask, tussled blonde hair and green eyes dark with lust.

"Dean, we --..." Sam tried to argue all over again but as the mask was pulled off his own face, his voice faltered and stopped. Dean's lips crashed to his, tasting like beer and winter fresh gum and it was so sudden that it managed to take Sam's breath away, but he kissed back, because he just couldn't help it. Dean guided him backwards, thankful that Sam hadn't worn the whole costume, just a black shirt and jeans. He slipped his hands under the fabric of the shirt to slowly rub at the other's hips, light circles pressing into the skin. 

"Come on, Sammy... I know you've thought about it." He slurred his words just slightly, but of course Sam had thought about it. His muscular older brother, protective and warm. It wasn't something he ever planned on acting on. Just a fleeting thought when Dean talked about his most recent fuck. 

"But --." Sam didn't want to argue. He should argue. He should tell Dean that this was wrong, that they were brothers. But maybe that didn't matter. A lot was wrong in Sam's life. It came with the territory.

"Shh. Sammy. Come on. Just relax for once." Dean murmured. He pushed up the other's shirt, kissing over his stomach slowly. He nibbled at the other's navel, moving his lips up. Sam could feel himself getting hard, as Dean flicked a tongue over his brother's nipple. A shiver of pleasure shot through Sam, the likes of which he'd never felt.

"Please, Dean --." Sam begged, no longer arguing as he bucked up his hips, pressing them into his brother. Dean about came in his pants, his brother's voice so willing. He was aware they couldn't fuck there, Sam was undoubtedly a virgin, and Dean didn't have lubricant. 

Dean's hands slid down to the other's jeans, undoing the button and tugging on them, Sam lifting his hips up to help. Sam's hands tangled in the other's ash blond hair, pulling softly. Dean's tongue and lips moved over the other's nipple steadily, sucking and then licking, then sucking. 

Sam's pants came completely off, discarded to the side. Now it was just the matter off his boxers, but Dean didn't plan on making it that easy for the  boy. He laid a trail of light hickeys down to the waistband, slowly kissing over the noticible buldge pressed desperately against the fabric.

"Don't tease, De. Need this." Sam whimpered under his lips, his body hot like fire and his cock impossibly hard. 

"Tell me, Sammy. Gotta tell me what you want." Dean murmured, loving the way the other felt under his lips, he could feel Sam's pulse, fast and hard, through one of the thick veins in the cock.

"De, I --.." Faced flushed in embarassment, Sam let out a soft whine. "W-want you to suck me, De." He whispered, shyly.

Dean took the fabric in his teeth, tugging it down. His hands went to his own pants, undoing them and forcing them down. Dean hadn't seen Sam's cock in years and he was surprised. Being just fifteen, it wasn't exactly long, a good five inches at the most. But damn, it was thick. Like a beer can. 

Sam's face was bright red, and he was extremely self consious. And Dean could tell, as he let the other's tip slip between his lips. He licked over just the head, his own hand sneeking into his pants to palm himself needily. He was just as hard, a little bit bigger than Sam at seven inches,.but not quite as thick. Any thought of size or comparision was quickly forgotten as Dean busied himself with sucking the other, licking up and down and using quite a bit of tongue.

Dean's hand guided his cock out of it's own prison, stroking it in time to his movements, encouraged by Sam's moans. Slowly, Dean pulled off of the other's cock, earning a soft whine of disproval from his brother. The older quickly busied himself with licking up the other's length, and licking over his balls. 

 

"Fuck, De, I'm gonna-ah cum." Sam whimpered. Dean let out a grunt of approval, waiting for the tell tale feeling of the other's balls tighening under his tongue. Sticky white cream shot out across Sam's toned stomach, contrasting with the tan skin, despite it being October.   
Dean moved his lips up, pumping himself faster. He stuck out his tongue, pushing the fluid into a pile, enjoying the taste of Sam. Sam, however, was unamused as he began to cool down and recover. 

"Dean, don't ... That's gross." He whined. 

"Why's it gross, Sammy? You ever tasted yourself?" Dean asked in a husky voice, pushing close to his own climax. 

 

"'Cause it is, Dean. 't's gross." Sam paused for a moment. "No. I haven't." He admitted. Dean folded his own tongue like a bowl, scooping up what he could of the cum. He swooped up to kiss Sam, the other's lips parting in surprise. Dean darted his tongue in, working against the other's. It tasted like cum and beer, salty but some how so hot.

"Taste so good, Sammy. So good." He murmured, pulling back his tongue. Sam moved his hands up to push against the other's chest.

"Wanna taste you, De. Can I?" He asked, looking up at the green eyed man. Dean nodded, pulling back from the other. He rested on his knees, moving up to straddle the other's chest. 

"Open your mouth, Sammy. Sit up a little bit." Dean said, Sam following the other's instructions. 

"Stick out your tongue." Dean instructed, resting the very tip on the pink muscle as it was presented to him. It didn't take more than a few moments for Dean to coat the other's tongue. Sam analyzed the taste, deciding he liked how Dean's cum tasted. Dean pulled away to lay on the bed beside Sam, quietly as he rode out his orgasmic bliss. 

Dean drove Sam back to the hotel that night, and they slept side by side. Well, since it was a single bed, it was more Sam wrapped around Dean. It was taboo, it was wrong, but maybe Sam could learn to live with it.


End file.
